


Two Halves Of A Whole

by tommysmutnothingbut



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: F/M, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-10-03 04:42:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17277257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tommysmutnothingbut/pseuds/tommysmutnothingbut
Summary: Emotional, fluffy, post-war Tommy fluff n' smut (if that's a thing)





	Two Halves Of A Whole

Dinner had been the worst kind of awkward - something that should have been happy but wasn’t. The boys were shells of their former selves, and the air was weighted with the knowledge of it. John was humorless and looked ten years older than he had before he left. Tommy was stoically absent in words and tightly reserved in actions. Arthur was the only one with any kind of fire in him, artificially fueled by the whiskey he’d been drunk off of long before the boys had stepped foot off the train in Birmingham.

It should have felt better to glance to the opposite end of the table and see Tommy, his chair no longer achingly empty. But you were discovering that there wasn’t much difference, his presence painful in its own way. The two of you had barely spoken, and there had been chances to, plenty ever since you two had desperately shoved your way to each other in the crowded train station.

Tommy’s crushing hug as people milled around you had been a false impression of what else he had to offer, taciturn and distant since the moment he’d let you go. Not anger, but an indifference - his arctic gaze blank when he managed to look at you at all.

“Just go on up love, I’ll finish these,” Polly muttered to you after dinner, the two of you scrubbing dishes and speaking in hushed tones, the house mostly quiet except for Tommy’s occasional footsteps on the floor above your heads.

“What if he found someone else?” you whispered, ignoring her and continuing your scrubbing. Polly was the only person you’d told your worst fear to. “What if he doesn’t love me anymore? Do you think that’s it?”

“Right, now you’ve lost it. Go,” Polly ordered, snatching the dishtowel from you. “Not even war could tear you two apart and you know it. Go on!”

“Fine,” you griped, dragging your feet as you headed upstairs. You had pictured it all very differently - you had been excited. Now you felt nothing but childish and avoidant, wanting to run into Ada’s room instead of your own, even though the man you’d loved since you were fifteen was finally back in it.

The pain of Tommy leaving had been unreal, your other half missing from a bed that grew colder each night he was gone. The two of you never stopped writing - your collection of Tommy’s letters filled two whole spaces underneath loose floorboards in the room you shared. But reading them had eventually made you feel more helpless than ever, each one laced with a resigned pain as his heart grew heavier with each passing day. And now that heart stood in front of you, Tommy slowly poking at the fire in your bedroom with a hand in his trouser pocket.

The sound of the door clicking shut behind you felt loud and piercing, and when Tommy turned to look at you you thought he might be annoyed, your entrance breaking his peace. But if he was disturbed he didn’t show it, barely registering you before turning back around.

Unsure of what to do with yourself, you watched him. He looked taller somehow, manlier and domineering in a stance you barely recognized as something that belonged to him. The top-half of a scar peeked out from his undershirt, the red twisted skin warping on his shoulder each time he turned the fire.

Without thinking you walked to him and touched the skin lightly, tracing its shape, the edges looking like torn paper. The feeling of Tommy’s skin under your fingers was surreal, and your heartbeat felt loud.

“I remember when you - and Freddie - wrote me about this,” you murmured, “I thought it would be lower.”

Tommy continued to roll the fire, his voice blank. “Spend a lot of time picturing it, did you?”

“No,” you shrugged sadly, “couldn’t help it, I suppose.”

Automatically, like you used to, you arched up on your toes to kiss the back of his neck on the last knot of his spine your height could reach. Tommy’s shoulders briefly relaxed, his skin warm over the slacking muscles. But then they were tense again, stiff under your lips until he shifted his weight away from you, ending your kiss in such a way that made you feel like your chest had cracked.

“I have to go,” Tommy said, hanging the fire poker before walking towards his jacket. Dread crawled over your skin as you watched his back retreat, his eyes having yet to meet yours.

“O-Oh,” you stammered, feeling silly and unwanted; your face grew hot in the heavy pause between the two of you. “Have I done something?”

“No,” he answered you, breathy and dismissive. “I just have things to do.”

“Tommy,” you said quietly, watching him lace his shoes. “It’s late, and I thought you’d want to - I don’t know,” you shook your head in exasperation. “It’s been four years, Tommy.”

Intently focused on his coat, Tommy had nothing to say as he shrugged the black wool onto his newly-broadened shoulders.

“Please,” you whispered, your voice fractured and small.

Tommy winced, the only sign of life he had to give. Finally looking at you he sighed, scanning your face. Words unsaid rippled across his sculpted features and parted his lips until he thought better of it, the words catching in his throat and staying there. You caught the briefest flash of life in his eyes, a foggy window into heartache and torment. But then it was gone, his expression set as he pressed his lips against your hair quickly.

“I’ll be back later,” he turned and put his cap on, walking towards the door and unraveling you as he went.

“Is there someone else? In France?” you sputtered impulsively when Tommy had the door open halfway, tears beading in your lashes. “Tell me.”

Tommy sighed but didn’t turn, shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose. “There’s no one else.”

“Then what is it then?” Your voice was growing loud in desperation, tears spilling onto your cheeks. “Is it me?”

“No,” Tommy’s voice was heavy, strained. “I have to go.”

A sob fell apart in your chest as the door shut, Tommy taking the little warmth and hope you had as he left. The bed bounced as you dropped onto the mattress, the coldness of its deafening emptiness burning through your dress and into your skin. Heartsore and tired, you put your face in your hands and cried.

******

Warmth enveloped you, soft and homey as you lay in bed. Eyelids fluttering, you drifted through the beautiful purgatory of being in between sleep and wakefulness. The air was cold as you breathed it in, smelling like the crisp, dry sweetness of coming snow as it briefly dredged your thoughts from slumber to visit the night.

As you rolled over and back into dreamland, the spicy smell of skin and whiskey filled your nose and you sighed in longing.

The brief pang of pain - one you had grown accustomed to - reminded you of what dreams felt like. Curling into the memories of Tommy’s warmth under the sheets, you found him there and slid your arms around his neck, ignoring the giggling French dolls in your mind that tried to beckon you towards nightmares instead.

Listening to Tommy whisper your name like a siren’s song, over and over, distant and far away, you groaned with content as you leaned back into the pillows. Somewhere in your conscious mind you knew Tommy - or a version of Tommy - had come home. Whether he still loved your or not was an issue for reality in the morning. The Tommy who was here now, drinking in your skin and whispering to you with whiskey lips was the Tommy that both your memories and your dreams knew well, and it was the one you chose.

But the Tommy of your dreams began to feel oddly real, his kisses hot across your collarbones as he twirled strands of your hair around his fingers and pulled at them gently. The taste of whiskey drew you one step closer to the land of the living, Tommy’s tongue warm with it as he finally pressed his lips to yours, kissing you and groaning with a deepness that shook your bones awake.

Without thinking you kissed him back, grateful for any scraps of love he could painfully tear from himself to give you. No matter how much you wanted to question, to speak, you didn’t dare break the trance of Tommy moving over you, pushing your nightgown up to your ribs while you traced the planes of his bare chest. Although the taut bands of muscle over his frame were new, he still felt like home and you hoped you did too.

Kissing him was easy, a seamless dance that you had gone too long without - although neither of you had forgotten a step. Running your hands over him, you reacquainted yourself with the new feelings of his knotted scar and the short velvet hair on his head. The thin skin below his ear was still soft on your lips, the growl it produced was still hungry. You felt each knot of his spine, trailing a finger up and down their ridges.

Tommy returned his lips to your neck and you opened your eyes, feeling him nudge your knees apart with one of his to settle his hips between your legs. The candle had been blown out, the bedroom nothing but moonlight-colored shapes. As wakefulness began to clear your mind, Tommy’s kisses stopped feeling like love and began feeling like desperation, your body Tommy’s idea of a solution to a problem he hadn’t been able to solve with whiskey and fighting.

Failing to hide your emotion, you inhaled shakily and Tommy immediately halted, your chest rattling with the thickness of uninvited tears. Tommy inched back up to you and pressed his forehead to yours, swiping the moisture from your cheeks with his thumbs and shushing you gently.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, feeling like it was your first time all over again, vulnerability laced into every bit of you as you shook your head until Tommy held it still. “I’m sorry, Tommy.”

“Don’t be,” Tommy whispered, rubbing circles into your temples before he laid in the crook of your neck. You felt his eyes scrunch shut against your skin.

“If there’s somebody else-”

“It’s not somebody fuckin’ else,” Tommy snapped. Cold air rushed into the space between you as Tommy pushed up and away from you, sitting back on his heels, hands on his thighs. He muttered to himself before wrenching his eyes shut again, bowing his head with a voice edged with exasperation. “It’s me, alright? It’s fucking me. Fuck.”

A hurt you hadn’t felt in a few weeks took hold of you and sunk in, your soul weighted with the same heaviness was planted when Tommy’s letters had begun to get bleaker. The hasty scrawls of ink on the scraps of foraged paper had seeped with an unsoothable pain, but now it was here before you, the grief dark as it bled from him.

The calm that only realization could bring came over you as you watched twelve steady rises and falls of Tommy’s shoulders, thinking he looked as lovely as you had ever found him. Sitting up, you brought the sheet with you and settled on your knees before him, your face even with the top of his drooping head. The faint moonlight shone on what remained of his longer locks, making their glossy darkness pallid and flat.

“You can tell me, Tommy.”

“There’s nobody fucking else-”

“Not that - I believe you,” you interrupted him as gently as you could, reaching up to touch his chiseled cheek. “You can tell me anything Tommy. That hasn’t changed. Has it?”

Tommy laid his hand over yours, pressing it harder into his pale skin. He looked at you with a set jaw. “I’ve changed. Things have changed.”

“I know,” you said softly, the two of you observing each other for a few moments as a carriage passed outside, hooves clopping heavily in the empty night.

Sweeping a lock of dark hair from his forehead, you smiled and felt the dried tear stains split dryly on your cheeks. “Do you think that scares me, Thomas?”

“I’ve done things,” he said simply, not answering your question. He didn’t look at you as he rubbed your cheekbone, following the path of his thumb with sad eyes. “And I’ve seen things. Alright? It won’t be the same.”

“Do you love me any less?”

“No,” he whispered, voice strained with emotion as he squeezed your hand for emphasis. “That will never change.”

“And I don’t love you any less, Thomas Shelby. You don’t scare me.” Craning your neck to silence his protests with a kiss, you murmured against the softness of his lips, “I don’t need you to be the same - we don’t need it to be the same. I love you, and all the demons you brought back with you, too.”

Tommy’s forehead pressed against yours as he shut his eyes and sighed heavily, your noses brushing. Pulling you close, he clutched you to him with a need that kept you silent, his hair tickled your shoulder as he settled into the crook of your neck. Stiffening slightly in surprise before sliding your arms over his shoulders, you let him lean on you and trailed your fingers over the freckled skin of his back, exhaling emptiness so you could fill your lungs with him.

Time passed, the paleness of the moon lightening your bedroom as it rose higher in the black sky. Tommy held you tightly, a silent statue even as his eyes wet the dip of your collarbone, the drops pooling there as you brushed the top of his head slowly. Knowing he didn’t want words, you said nothing as you played with different locks of hair and gazed out the window at the black spread of rooftops.

The rhythmic coexistence between the two of you began to lull you to sleep, your breathing matched. Tommy’s hand tracing your spine was mesmeric, grazing your skin slowly as you leaned on each other.

Tommy straightened when he felt you start to flirt with sleep, your wakefulness willingly returning when he pressed his lips to yours softly. Feeling him move your legs around his waist felt as natural as it ever had, the muscle memory eager to be remembered.

Whispering your name whenever he got the chance, Tommy held you tight and ran his hands wherever they could reach, as if he was finally realizing he was home, and you were real. You finally felt like you weren’t kissing someone who was lost, the movements of Tommy’s lips against yours were not empty of life, no longer a barren forest.

The rough callouses of his hands scraped you in a way that made your back arch and your breaths grow heavy, Tommy suddenly insatiable in his need for your skin, swearing as he gripped you everywhere he could.

By the time your hips had begun to roll into each other’s you were hot with wetness and hunger, gasping wispily as Tommy sucked at your neck and murmured to you, sliding a hand under your nightgown to trace one nipple and then the other. Fingers curled into his muscles, you held him tight as you felt his cock harden against you, the dry friction of his boxers on your lingerie the most pleasure either of you had had in years.

By the time Tommy tossed you backwards onto the pillows your clothing had made piles on the floor, Tommy’s boxers lying dangerously close to the dying but still capable fire. His skin was stark in the moonlight as he crawled over your body, eyes shut as he savored the taste of your skin, sheened with sweat.

But his lips were all you wanted to taste, and you clawed for him until his face was near yours again. Kissing him fervidly, you traced Tommy’s cheekbones and held his head to yours as your tongue danced gracefully with his. When he pulled away and held himself over you in silence a single strand of fear brushed you, taunting.

“What is it?” you breathed, your hands trailing down his hardened biceps.

Gazing at you half-lidded, Tommy eased down onto his forearms after a few moments and shook his head. “I’ve missed you, love.”

Tommy moved lower to run his tongue over your nipples, your chest hitching shallowly and then deeply when he slipped a finger into the hot wetness between your legs, running up and down with a tantalizing slowness.

“Have you missed me?”

“Yes,” you breathed.

Tommy hummed in approval, moving down your body until he could watch himself work, leaving love bites on your inner thighs while he pushed his finger inside of you, his smirk devious and familiar as it crept across his face when you arched into him.

Your skin was peppered with marks by the time your impatience had grabbed hold, and it felt ethereal to finally beg, “Fuck me, Tommy.”

“Mm,” Tommy considered, kissing your hipbone softly and smelling your skin. “Not yet. I have some indulging to do.”

And indulge he did, taking his time on you as he graced all the spots that had fallen to neglect in his absence. He easily found the patch of skin below your hip that made every nerve swear, he hadn’t forgotten that dragging his lips along the ribs below your breasts made your toes curl; his hand softly rubbed circles onto your clit all the while. By the time his mouth was back on your inner thigh he had your hips pinned to the bed to stop their wriggling.

Obliging at long last, Tommy’s lips were silk on your pussy as he kissed you, the lightness of his brushes against you as eager with enthusiasm as they were gentle with reverence. Spreading your legs with his elbows, he held them open and steadily flicked your clit with his tongue, watching you with glinting eyes that were onyx with pupils.

Trying to contain yourself was a useless act, and you didn’t care if you woke up all of Small Heath, crying out as Tommy’s tongue inside of you made your hips arch from the bed. Sliding his hands beneath you to grip your ass, he refused to let you twist away and rose with your hips, holding you to his mouth.

Writhing with only your upper back against the mattress, your hips danced helplessly and Tommy easily followed, sucking at your clit and humming in appreciation until the vibration made you start to whine.

Shivers of pleasure lit your skin on fire and you bunched the sheets in your fists, his tongue ruthless against your increasingly sensitive clit. Easing you back down onto the mattress, he replaced his tongue with his fingers, rubbing skillful circles onto your clit softly.

“How long has it been, love?”

Heavy breathing was your only answer, no space for words between the increasing speed of your gasps, your muscles tightening around him.

“Too long, that’s right,” he smirked, hastening the pace of his fingers on your nerves. “Cum for me.”

If you had the breath you could have laughed at how good it felt, your body rippling as your world fuzzed around the edges. Tommy curved his fingers into your g-spot and stroked, the sight of you toppling over the edge making him voracious, his nails sinking into your thigh.

“Look at me,” he ordered, hoarse with desire.

Chin on your chest, you barely succeeded in keeping your eyes on his while you came onto him, your brows knitting deeply as your mouth fell open. Tommy watched you with a mix of unending adoration and unrefined lust, cooing to you as he coaxed out the last wisps of orgasm that had been waiting for him to do so for far too long.

Tommy finally dragged his eyes reluctantly from yours and exhaled sharply as he watched your pussy spasm around his soaked fingers. Leaning back against the pillows, you let the stars fade from your vision and waited for him, jerking slightly in sensitivity as he kissed up your wetness.

The taste of you on his tongue was something you’d missed, and you drank it in as he returned to you, your head rising from the pillow to meet him. Tommy caught you, cradling you close as he nipped at your lips, reaching down to slide his fingers in and out of you until you were whimpering again.

“My turn?” you asked, jutting your bottom lip out before biting it.

Tommy watched you darkly and growled, spinning your vision as he quickly took you up in his arms and lifted you off the bed to set you on your knees.

Smile spreading voraciously, you waited patiently for Tommy to straighten and step closer to you, your mouth falling open in unashamed wantonness at the sight of him.

Pulling at his legs hungrily you brought his cock to your mouth, teasing him as you ran your lips up and down the side of its length, staring up at him with doe eyes.

“I thought about this very often, you know,” you murmured into his skin, running over him.

“Is that so?” Tommy mocked mildly, watching you and twirling a piece of your hair around his finger. “Such a vivid imagination you have, dirty girl.”

Assenting with a hum, you swirled your tongue around the head of his cock until he groaned, gathering your hair in his hand. You savored him as he had savored you, relishing in every one of his shivers and low moans as you took the length of his cock into your throat over and over.

“Fuck,” Tommy swore, watching you work your mouth and your hands over him, his grip tightening in your hair as he began to push your head himself. “Just like that, love.”

With eyes to the ceiling, Tommy groaned deeply as he moved your mouth onto his cock roughly, the feeling of it making your pussy throb. You couldn’t help but touch your clit, whining around his length as you felt your own wetness. Tommy brought his attention back to you in a lustful haze, a devilish open-mouthed smirk on his face as he watched you.

Reflexive tears rolled onto your cheeks but you barely felt them, small prices to pay for the feeling of Tommy’s cock down your throat. You hummed in pleasure, your spine electric as you touched your clit, the taste of Tommy on your tongue. Just when your jaw began to stiffen did his breathing grow heavy, no traces of icy blue in his eyes as he grew closer to release.

But then he pulled you from him, allowing you a few gulps of air before bending down to kiss you deeply, his hands large on your face and words of love warm on his lips as he pulled you to stand.

Warmth spread through you as you threw your arms around his neck, jumping into his arms to wrap yourself around him, Tommy brought you both back to bed and held you in his lap, kissing you hard and breathing you in, insatiable.

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you bit at Tommy’s neck as you sat on him and reached down to palm his cock, wet with your mouth’s work. A groan you realized was yours shook your chest as you felt the hard length of him in your hand, Tommy’s breath growing ragged again as you stroked him.

Tommy pulled you from his neck gently by your hair, grasping your head in his hands as he kissed you fervently, your moving lips inseparable by a pulling gravity. Pushing Tommy’s cock against your dripping entrance, you rubbed it against you until he moaned hotly into your mouth.

With a roll of his hips Tommy was suddenly inside you, hissing through his teeth as you moaned his name against his parting lips. Absence had tightened your pussy and you burned deliciously as Tommy took his time working his way in and out of you, each inch gained leaving you more breathless than the last. Tommy never stopped kissing you, his hands broad on your back as he eased you onto him completely, hushing your whimpers as you stretched for the size of him.

Stroking you strongly, Tommy rested his forehead on yours as he held you close, picking up his pace as he felt you relax around him, the long lost waves of pleasure rolling through your muscles. His words were hot in your ear and his cock was thick in your pussy as he fucked you until your eyes rolled and your nails left half-moons in his shoulders.

Soon the two of you were close, set to cum together with sweat-dewed skin and panting breath. Tommy’s gaze was searing and warm and home all at the same time, and you had no desire to look away.

While Tommy was gone every action had been an effort, every movement taking conscious thought to complete when your heart was miles away, in danger and alone. But thought was no longer privy to the world you two were now in, nothing but moans and aphorisms of love breaking the silence of night. Worries and horrors would never find you here, and Tommy was able to move without fear at long last, his hands never leaving your skin as he finally came home.


End file.
